All Through the Night
by belgium-morning
Summary: Hermione is given a particularly difficult patient on her first day as a Healer. Follow her and Rachel Blanc as they overcome pain and memories to find happiness. no slash.


Disclaimer: this is purely for entertainment purposes and no profit is being made off this. i'm not JK Rowling.

AN: This is just a long one shot about how deep some wounds go and what it takes to heal.

* * *

Hermione Granger was making her way down the corridor of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries on her first day as a certified healer. Wearing the customary lime green robes, she felt that this was where she belonged; that this was right. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck that she knew would need to be adjusted before the day was out, and in her hand was her clipboard. This wasn't just any clipboard; it was, like anything in the magical world, magical. Any notes she recorded would be instantly copied into a file that would be kept in her office.

She turned left at the first hallway she came to and headed to her supervisor's office. Hermione would receive her first patient today and was very excited. She stopped outside a door on her right and hesitated before knocking.

"Enter," came the brusque response on the other side of the imposing door. _This is it._ She took a breath and entered. Hermione was immediately transported into a different world, one of prestige and dignity. The walls were paneled in wood of the finest cherry and numerous awards and certifications lined the interior. A rather large desk took up most of the room in the office and a rather large man sat behind the desk. He was harsh and quick to find fault but he was the best at what he did, which was run the hospital with efficiency.

Hermione stayed where she was until told otherwise. He looked up at her and grabbed a file from a pile on the corner of his impeccably neat desk, handing it to her.

She quickly took the file and flipped through it on her way out, muttering a "thanks" that went unnoticed. Her eyes alighted on a line under her name and she turned suddenly.

"This says that I'm assigned a patient on the fourth floor, ward fifty-two."

"Yes and what of it?" He didn't even look up.

"But…but that's the incurable ward. First year healers never work up there."

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Now if you don't like your assignment, then you leave. It's this or nothing." Again, eyes always on his paperwork.

"Yes, sir." Hermione left without another word. As soon as she left the office, she headed for her own. She had arrived early for the specific reason of having time to look over her patient's file and learning all she could about them before meeting them.

She still had her nose in her file when she entered the sparse office. It was shared with another first year healer; one she knew quite well, Draco Malfoy. He was seated at his desk, his pale blond locks framing his face as he concentrated on his own file. He looked up when she entered.

"So, who'd you get?"

"Rachel Blanc." She muttered, throwing the file onto her empty desk.

"Ouch." Draco wheeled his chair over to her desk and pulled the file before him. "_Patient: Rachel Blanc…Admitted: 1997…diagnosis: thanatophobia_, fear of dying? Hm, to each their own…_survivor's guilt, regression,_ I wonder what that means_ …ward: 52…room: 3…birthday: June 21, 1988…history: Rachel arrived here at the age of nine and has never left. Her mother, father, four brothers and one sister were murdered by Death Eaters in front of her, before they left her to die surrounded by their corpses. _No wonder she's afraid of death…_she was in a coma when medi-wizards arrived on the scene and stayed that way for four months. After awaking, she was put on the fourth floor when she became violent if left alone for any amount of time. When she was thirteen, she began her episodes of regression where she would believe herself to be nine again and her family still alive. These would last for a few hours every few months until last year when they happened for longer amounts of time with shorter intervals…Notes: Rachel has had several personal healers since her arrival here and has been given her own room in ward 52 after the end of the War when it was created. There is no hope for recovery. _Tough break kid." Draco commented before sliding Hermione the file. She merely responded by letting her head fall to her desk.

"So who'd you get?" Her question was muffled through her hair.

"Nobody." Draco smiled at this as Hermione shrieked her indignation. If a healer wasn't assigned a particular person that meant they were assigned a ward or a floor. This is what most first years were assigned. "I got Third Floor."

"That is so not fair. Nothing ever happens on Third Floor. I can't believe I got one of the hardest cases here and you got one of the easiest."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't done so well in med school, you wouldn't be in this mess." Hermione just threw a wad of paper at him, which he dodged smirking.

After her discussion with Draco, Hermione made her way up to the Fourth Floor. This was one of the most active floors in the building but also one of the most difficult. By giving her this case, her supervisor was placing faith in her that she'd do well. She turned to the right at a door marked simply Ward 52. Someone had scrawled across a piece of paper _Incurable Ward_ and stuck it under the plaque. Hermione just ignored it as she entered.

Inside, a long corridor led to an open area that was the healer's station, and doors lined the corridor. Name plates where affixed to the wall at each door letting the healer's know who was in what room.

Hermione waked over to second door on the left and peered through the window. She caught a glimpse of the bare room before one of the other healers came up to her.

"You Rachel's new healer?" It wasn't a question so much as a statement. Hermione nodded. "Good luck, you're going to need it." The healer then continued on and entered the first room of the new ward; Hermione didn't want to know who got that honor.

She knocked quietly on the door and entered. It was a meager room. It held an iron bed frame that had a thin mattress and old white sheets. On one side of the room, there was a small table that was fastened to the floor and a single chair. Sheets of paper were scattered on the table and a half eaten tray of food. Other than a window above the bed, the room didn't have anything else. Its sole occupant was sitting in a corner, hugging her knees, her hair disheveled and lank. Hermione couldn't see her face through her hair.

Rachel didn't even acknowledge that someone had entered her room. She continued hugging her knees and started slowly rocking back and forth. Hermione caught a few words of what she was muttering to her self, "…papa's gonna buy…mockingbird…and…don't sing…momma…diamond ring…" She knew the song; it was one her father used to sing to her when she was little, however, he sang it slightly differently in the beginning.

"Hi Rachel. My name's Hermione. I'm your new healer." Rachel ignored her and continued her broken song. She plowed ahead. "That's a pretty song. My father used to sing it to me. What was your father like?" Again nothing.

Hermione took a breath before continuing. "That's okay; you don't have to talk. Both my parents were dentists and muggles. I didn't have any siblings. Do you have any siblings? I always wanted some though; sometimes it got terribly lonely when I was by myself."

She spent the rest of the morning talking to the muttering Rachel, who never responded to Hermione's questions. Occasionally she would see a spark of recognition light up her eyes but then it would be squashed by the vacancy. At noon, the healer that spoke to her earlier relieved her so she could take a short break for lunch, then she was at it again.

At two o'clock, she got her first taste of Rachel. The girl was again in the corner, this time singing 'All Through the Night.' Hermione was talking about nothing in particular when suddenly Rachel launched herself at her. She grabbed a hold of Hermione's hair and pulled at it, while her legs kicked out. She wasn't ready for the girl's attack and was thrown onto her back on the girl's bed. Hermione grabbed Rachel's arms and tried to get the girl off. The commotion was heard outside and several healers came to the room to help.

As suddenly at the fit started, it stopped. All the muscles in Rachel's body relaxed and her eyes lulled shut. Hermione sat up, holding the limp girl in her arms and looked up at the other healers telling them with her eyes to not do anything. Slowly the girl's eyes opened and she smiled a bright and happy smile. She hopped off Hermione's lap and skipped over to her desk. She sat at the desk and began coloring.

Hermione motioned for the others to leave the room and walked over to the girl. She kneeled to Rachel's level and watched her color. "Hello, my name is Rachel. What's yours?"

Having never heard the girl talk this was quite a shock. She expected the voice of a teenager but this voice was softer and higher like that of a little girl. "My name is Hermione. What are you coloring?"

Rachel picked up a blue crayon and began making puffy blue clouds. "This is a picture for my Mama. It's going to be a rainbow in the end with a pot of gold. It's her birthday tomorrow, did you know?" Rachel went back to her coloring.

"No, I didn't know that. Do you live with your mom and dad?" Hermione had never really been taught how to handle this situation.

"Of course silly." This was answered with a giggle. "I'm just at school right now, but my Mama should pick me up soon. Then me an' Cor an' Erin an' Evan and Mama are going to get ice cream. Darian and Neil are too little for school so Daddy is going to watch them. He always gets vanilla anyway so he doesn't have to come."

Hermione filed the names for later and just decided to watch the girl color. Every so often, Rachel would volunteer information about her family but other than that it was a quiet afternoon. At five, Hermione brought Rachel her dinner and the girl ate about half of it. She then promised to return tomorrow and left for the day.

Closing the door behind her, she let out an exasperated sigh. She grabbed her clipboard that she had been taking notes on all day. She decided to come in early to read them over but tonight she just wanted to get home. As she walked down the corridor, she sang softly to herself, "Hush little baby, don't you cry, Papa's gonna sing you a lullaby…"

Hermione quickly settled into a routine with Rachel. In the morning, she would simply talk to the girl about nothing and everything. Never once during these conversations did she volunteer information; she always sat in a corner, hugged her knees and rocked back and forth, singing to herself.

About three times a week, Rachel would have an episode, always in the afternoon, that would last until Hermione went home. This is when she learned about Rachel's life before the Death Eater attack. Her father was a muggle and her mother was a muggle-born witch. Rachel, Erin and Evan (her seven year old twin siblings) and Neil all showed magical ability; Darian and Cormac were like their father. Her mother worked for the Ministry in the Muggle Liaison office and her father was a carpenter.

In the morning before visiting Rachel, Hermione researched the attack and learned that it was simply done for fun. There was no motive other than that the Blancs had muggle heritage. The Death Eaters responsible were never found and could still be at large.

"Hello Rachel, my name is Hermione. I'm your healer." Hermione always began her day the same. It had been two months since she started working on Rachel's case. Today, Rachel was sitting on her bed under the window in her usual position. This was only the third time Hermione had found the girl in this particular spot in the room.

She pulled the chair over from the desk and began her talk. The song of the day was 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' "Where did we end yesterday? Ah yes, so Harry had just jumped on the Troll's back and his wand had gotten stuck up its nose. The Troll didn't exactly like this and reached up and grabbed Harry. He was going to clobber him with his club when--"

"You've already covered this material." The voice that said this was not the soft, innocent voice of a nine year old but the harsh, ragged voice of someone who had seen too much in too short a time.

Hermione was too shocked to say anything and looked into the girl's eyes and noticed that the vacancy was gone. "Well, then perhaps you'd like to tell a story."

"I don't tell stories."

"Why not? I've often found that stories are a great way to escape your troubles."

"Stories don't paint an accurate picture. They talk of friendship and bravery but in this world, there is nothing but deception and despair."

"I beg to differ. I have several very good friends and we have done many brave acts together."

"Pfft. That's a load of bull and you know it. Friends are only friends because they need something from you. As soon as you can't give them anything, they're gone. And don't even begin to talk about bravery with me. There is no such thing."

"I think we are going to have to agree to disagree on this point."

Rachel began to laugh in a high pitched manic way. It was forced and they both knew it. "People only say that when they can't think of a good comeback. It's a copout."

"You've certainly had enough time to think of all this, haven't you?"

"What else is there to do in this dump?" Rachel looked around her and rubbed her hands along her arms, as if she were cold. "I've seen so many healers since I came here and they always talk at me, never to me. I've heard so many 'stories' about their pathetic excuse for a life."

"Why are you talking to me then?"

"Occasionally they get it right." Rachel got off the bed and wandered over to the desk. She picked up her drawings that she had made yesterday when she was nine, and began to methodically shred them. First she'd rip them in half lengthwise, then again widthwise. She'd continue this until she had made a little pile of colored confetti. She picked up the pieces of paper and began to sprinkle them about the room.

"You want to know why I 'regress'?" Hermione sat up a little straighter but otherwise let the girl talk freely. "Yes, I know that stupid term that they use for me. Anyway, it's safe; nobody can hurt me. I can't be in pain if I have nobody to mourn, if I don't know." She swirled around in little circles with her arms spread wide and her head lulled back letting the scraps of paper fall loosely from her fingers.

"It's okay to be sad, to mourn. You were never given the chance, I understand that."

Rachel lunged at her; suddenly fierce, grabbing Hermione by the arms and making her look her in the eyes. For one so small, she had a surprising strength. "You don't understand; you can't understand because you weren't there. You didn't see their faces, hear their screams. You didn't feel the terror clench at your heart or your tongue lodge itself in your throat, constricting your breathing. You don't know." Silently, tears leaked from her amber orbs and created tracks along her pasty cheeks. Then she cracked a smile, it was the same as her laugh, manic and forced. She let her go and Hermione ran her hands over the spot where Rachel's grip had been. She continued her slow circles and started to sing,

Sleep my child and peace attend thee,

All through the night;

Guardian angels God will send thee,

All through the night;

Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,

Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,

I my loving vigil keeping,

All through the night.

She continued to slowly swirl, singing softly as tears made their way down her cheeks. Hermione knew that Rachel had once again retreated into herself and that nothing would bring her back, at least not today.

Even though it was only two o'clock in the afternoon, Hermione grabbed her clipboard and let herself out of the room. As Hermione was closing the door, she looked back in through the observing window and saw Rachel throw herself at her bed and begin to cry heavily. Huge racking sobs convulsed her body and fat tears slid from beneath her dark lashes.

The next day, Hermione walked into Rachel's room and didn't begin with her customary introductions or even her stories. The girl was sitting in the corner opposite her bed and was singing 'Mary had a little lamb.' Hermione sat at her desk and pulled out a file from within her bag that she had brought. She completely ignored Rachel for the entire morning. At first the singing was steady but then it began to falter and then stopped altogether. Hermione would steal a glance at her and notice that this seemed to have thrown her off.

Finally Rachel cracked. "Why aren't you telling your stupid stories?" This was said in a very surly attitude, making her appear for the first time like the teenager that she was.

Hermione never looked up. "You didn't want to hear my 'stupid' stories."

"Fine." Rachel turned resolutely away from Hermione and stared at the wall. They stayed that way for an hour, the only sound being made was Hermione's quill scratching the paper and Rachel's forced breathing.

At ten after noon, Rachel broke the silence. "Where's my lunch?"

Again Hermione's eyes stayed firmly affixed to her paper. "We're not eating here today."

"Where are we eating then?" Rachel was beginning to sound like Draco Malfoy in his school days, condescending and rude.

"Well, depending on how long it takes you to be polite, in town."

This brighten Rachel immediately; none of her other healers took her into town, granted she had never given them a reason to. She seemed to battle with herself for a few minutes before Hermione heard a soft muttering sound.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm sorry." This seemed to mean a lot to the girl, getting out. She hadn't left this room for six years and this hospital for seven.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Hermione pulled out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt that she borrowed from Ginny; Rachel was quite a bit smaller than her. "Here. We're going to make you look presentable. Now I'm not as good as my friend but I do know a thing or two about a hair brush."

For the next fifteen minutes, Hermione brushed Rachel's hair and put on a bit of light make-up. She gave her a necklace that she had picked up yesterday when she had decided to do this for the girl. It was a simple gold chain with a pendant of a gold lamb hanging from it.

After her short day with Rachel, Hermione had decided that this girl needed to mourn so she could move on. She may never get over all her fears but she might have a chance at a normal life. As soon as she had left her room, Hermione headed to her supervisor's office and after several minutes of begging, he finally relented to let her take the girl out for lunch. She was hoping that by the end of the week Rachel would be able to visit her family's graves, but she wasn't going to push it.

Once Rachel looked presentable, Hermione asked a healer to watch her while she quickly changed her own clothes and then they were off. Rachel was very nervous when they got to the main floor and practically clung to Hermione's arm lest she should be left. She soon learned that since the girl hadn't been exposed to many people or crowds, this was going to have to progress slowly.

Hermione walked with Rachel avoiding places that had too many crowds towards her own flat. She decided against a restaurant not sure how Rachel would do in that environment. They made it to the flat with no mishaps and Hermione was feeling good about this.

In her flat, Rachel proceeded slowly, not touching anything and watching were she stepped. Hermione prompted her to sit on the couch while she made them lunch. Rachel sat tentatively on her worn sofa and as soon as she did, Crookshanks leapt up into her lap. She froze, her arms stiff at her side until the cat began to rub his head along the underside of her chin. This made her smile and she slowly brought her hand up to pet the cat.

Hermione watched the entire interaction from the kitchen and smiled. _This is going to work._ Not being a proficient cook, she simply made them mac-and-cheese, and fish sticks. Not the most gourmet, but this was her favorite meal when she was little.

The pair didn't talk through the entire meal but they didn't need to. Rachel finally understood that someone wasn't going to leave her and Hermione finally understood that all the girl needed was to be treated normally.

For the next several weeks, Rachel and Hermione would go out for lunch every day. The first week it was only to Hermione's flat but then it progressed into restaurants. Rachel was becoming more and more comfortable, and would withdraw less and less into her nine year old self. Occasionally, she would be sullen when Hermione would first arrive but by eleven forty-five she got over what ever was bugging her. It was always the same, Rachel would apologize and Hermione would tell her she didn't need to.

A month after Hermione had originally started taking Rachel out, she told the girl that they were going to go someplace new. Rachel didn't deal well with new situations so often they would go to a restaurant for a week at a time, but this was the middle of the week.

The restaurant of the week was a muggle establishment called Picture Perfect; it served mainly sandwiches and deli style platters. Hermione and Rachel sat down at the table that they had occupied for the past two days and ordered what they had ordered yesterday and the day before that. Amelia was their waitress again and she talked with them about her boy problems until their food arrived.

After lunch, Hermione led the younger girl down the street into a part of town that was older, more sedate. Rachel was confused; she didn't have the faintest idea where they were headed.

As they were rounding a corner, a cemetery came into view and the girl stopped dead in her tracks. Hermione had anticipated this and grabbed hold of the Rachel's forearm forcing her to continue. This only incited her to resist and extending her legs as straight as they would go, she dug her feet into the ground in front of her. Sweat began to bead on her forehead and she made little noises of fear in the back of her throat; her eyes darted around looking for a way out. Eventually, Hermione pulled her to the entrance of the cemetery but no further. Rachel sank to the ground and began to cry. The healer stood above her patient and stroked her hair, speaking soothing words to her.

They returned to the hospital and Rachel retreated to her corner and resumed her old position. She wouldn't look at Hermione when she left.

The next day, Rachel was still in her corner, in the clothes she had worn the day before, looking as disheveled as she had three months ago when Hermione first became her healer. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the girl to do anything, to even acknowledge her. She wouldn't even come out of her corner to go out to lunch.

When Hermione returned from her lunch break, Rachel was sitting at her desk and she realized what she was doing. When the pain became too difficult, she regressed.

She let the girl be for the next few days, then in the beginning of the next week, Hermione told her that they were going out for lunch that day. Rachel tried to resist but Hermione wouldn't let her; she dragged her literally kicking and screaming from the hospital. The young girl soon discovered that her healer was firm on this and simply followed her around, ate what was placed in front of her, refusing to talk.

They didn't go to the cemetery that day or the next but on Wednesday, a week from the first time, Hermione brought Rachel to it. She pulled the same stunt as she had before, and Hermione again let her.

The two of them fell into a new routine. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday would be perfectly normal days, with conversation and progression; then on Wednesday, they would visit the cemetery and on Rachel would throw a fit. For the rest of week, the girl would be sullen and withdrawn.

This went on for several months. Hermione had started working at St. Mungo's in the beginning of the summer and had watched it slowly fade into fall then slide into winter. While many people thought Hermione was fighting a losing battle, she knew better. Every Wednesday, they receded further into the cemetery and closer to the graves of her family. Rachel and Hermione had created an odd bond that went beyond that of healer and patient; they were friends. Hermione never took a day off; Rachel never disappointed. She really wanted to get better but never had anyone push back.

The sixth month anniversary of Hermione being Rachel's healer was coming up, and Hermione desperately wanted a breakthrough; she wanted Rachel to see her family's graves on that day.

On the day before, Rachel gave her some vital information that helped Hermione create a plan that would do just that. They were sitting on her bed, Hermione was painting the younger girl's toenails a funky orange color. Her room had brighten considerably in the months that Hermione had been her healer. One Saturday when she was feeling particularly happy, they had painted it vibrant yellow. The next day, Hermione had come in with new sheets for her. Rachel was also wearing new clothes that Hermione and her friends had gotten for her.

"You know, you're the first healer I've had for six months. All the others left after only a few. I think the shortest stint was a matter of days. I was feeling particularly vengeful that week." She added with a smirk. Hermione merely bobbed her head in affirmation.

"I…um…got you a little something to say thank you. Well actually the other healers got it for me, but I asked them if they could get it, it really is coming from me. I mean, I couldn't really get you something, you were always following me around when we went out." Hermione made a motion with her hand to tell the girl to hurry up. "Well here it is." Rachel pulled a wrapped package from underneath her pillow and handed it to the older girl.

Hermione quickly pulled the wrapping paper off the present and what she saw made tears well up in her eyes. In her hands was a beautiful glass picture frame, but it was what was inside that really touched her heart. On the day that they had painted her room, one of the healers had come in and taken a picture. Both of them were wearing overalls and had paint all over their arms and faces, but both were happy.

Setting the picture aside, Hermione pulled Rachel into a hug and told her it was perfect. Wiping her eyes, an idea struck. "Umm…Rachel, you know what I really want for a gift?" At the girl's questioning look, she continued. "For you to be happy. So tomorrow, when we go to cemetery, will you please go with me to your parents' graves? I'm going to go tomorrow, but I really want you at my side."

As an unspoken agreement, they never talked about the cemetery, not even when they went. Both knew what day they went and what happened there but they still never talked about it. Hermione was putting a lot of faith in Rachel with just this simple request.

The young girl looked at her feet and her healer knew she wouldn't get an answer that day. Hermione left worried about the next day; everything rode on whether Rachel came.

The next day dawned bright and early. Hermione arrived at the hospital and went up to Rachel's room. Neither spoke of what happened yesterday and they went about their business as usual. Now that Rachel was doing better, Hermione didn't have to be her personal healer any more but both were afraid that if she left, the girl would regress. They mostly talked in her room or went and sat in the garden outside the hospital. Often times Rachel would take a pad of paper and draw. She really was quite good, but had never let herself progress past nine years old. Now she was flourishing.

Today they went into the garden and Hermione watched as Rachel carefully drew a beautiful white snowy owl that often could be found perched in the bare tree. When Harry heard that Rachel had always loved snowy owls, he sent Hedwig out every day that they went to the garden to sit and simply let her draw her. At quarter till, Hermione and Rachel went inside to get ready to go out. They each pulled on thick knit sweaters and heavy boots. Hermione made sure Rachel was sufficiently bundled with a hat, mittens and a scarf before setting off.

They had lunch at a beautiful café and simply watched the snow drift down. Rachel was growing progressively quiet, as she always did on Wednesday. They began the short trek to the cemetery and increasingly slowing their pace.

At the entrance, Hermione plowed ahead and left Rachel standing there. This was the first time the healer had ever left her young patient in London by herself. She simply walked on ahead and stopped at a series of tombstones. They each said their occupants' name, their birth and death dates, and short epitaph on who they were in life.

After a half hour and no sign of Rachel, Hermione admitted defeat, and turned to return to the hospital. Just as she did so, she saw a small figure making its way slowly through the snow; it was Rachel. She hid her joy and watched as the young girl continued her walk to see her family. She stopped in front of her family's graves and simply stared at them, not letting a single tear cloud her vision. She pulled from within her coat the drawing she had made that morning and put it delicately at her mother's tombstone. On it she had written, _Love always, Peanut. _

Rachel turned away and the two of them walked out of the cemetery together.

The next day, Hermione went to the hospital at the same time she always she did. She took the same stairs, and walked along the same corridors. At the fourth floor, ward 52, she went inside. She stopped at room 3 and peered inside the window. Painters had been there in the night and had made the room the same stark white it had been six months ago. All of Rachel's clothes, drawings and personal affects had been removed. The room would receive a new occupant tomorrow.

Hermione continued on to the healer's station and the healer that had greeted her the first day was sitting behind it. She silently handed Hermione Rachel's things. When Hermione began to fuss over a collar of one of her shirts, she commented, "You're leaving, aren't you?" Like before it wasn't a question, but a statement. "I would do the same thing; you're no longer needed here and after what happened…" She didn't need to continue; Hermione just nodded and left without a word.

She made her way slowly to her supervisor's office and when she knocked, she received the same harsh, "Enter." She went inside without hesitation. It was the same office, with the same man behind the desk. He looked up at her and said, "It's been done, then?"

Mutely she nodded. "You can have the day off. I think we'll all understand." Hermione left the hospital and walked to her flat. When she entered, Crookshanks came up to her and bombarded her for attention. Her set Rachel's things on the table and looked to her mantle. In between pictures of Harry and Ginny's wedding, and Ron and Pansy's little girl, sat the picture that Rachel had given her not two days ago. She smiled at it and walked down the hall.

Peering inside the spare bedroom, she looked at the sleeping form of her new adopted daughter, Rachel. She quietly sat on the edge of her bed and sang softly,

Sleep my child and peace attend thee,

All through the night;

Guardian angels God will send thee,

All through the night;

Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,

Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,

I my loving vigil keeping,

All through the night.

Hermione worked it out with the hospital that she could adopt Rachel if she conquered her fears and demons by the sixth month. Rachel continued to live with Hermione until the next year when she received her first Hogwarts letter; she would be seventeen. Until the day she left for school, Hermione and her went and visited her family's grave every Wednesday.

After sharing an office with her for six months, Draco finally asked Hermione out and dated for six months before they decided to make it permanent; Rachel was Maid of Honor. Hermione didn't leave the hospital but she did leave ward 52. She now works on the first floor, in the Llewellyn ward, where she first visited all those years ago.

Today is the day that both Rachel and Hermione have waited for, graduation. At the age of twenty one, Rachel will the oldest in her class but she doesn't care, she has a bright future ahead of her. She's going to follow in her adopted mother's footsteps and enter the field of medicine; she's been accepted to her alma mater. As Headmistress McGonagall calls her name, she looks out into the crowd and spots Hermione, Draco, Erin, her three year old little sister, and Cormac her month old baby brother. Her heart fills with emotion and she finally feels like she belongs.

As she sits down with diploma in hand, she begins to sing under her breath, "Hush, little baby, don't you cry. Papa's gonna sing you a lullaby…"


End file.
